I've Got No Use for the Women-Marty Robbins

[ti:I've Got No Use for the Women] [ar:Marty Robbins] [al:More Gunfighter Ballads & Trail Songs] [by:] [offset:0] [00:02.89]I've Got No Use for the Women - Marty Robbins [00:05.68]I've got no use for the women [00:12.24]A true one may seldom be found [00:16.21]They'll use a man for his money [00:20.19]When it's gone they'll turn him down [00:24.37]They're all alike at the bottom [00:28.57]Selfish and grasping for all [00:32.28]They'll stay by a man when he's winning [00:36.25]And laugh in his face when he falls [00:40.34]My pal was an honest young puncher [00:44.74]Honest and upright and true [00:48.43]Till he turned to a gun shooting gambler [00:51.16] [00:52.31]On account of a girl named Lou [00:56.10]They fell in with evil companions [01:00.36]The kind that are better off dead [01:04.26]When a gambler insulted her picture [01:08.22]He filled him full of lead [01:12.44]Off in the long night they trailed him [01:15.95]Through misquete and thick chapperal [01:20.22]I couldn't help think of that woman [01:24.09]As I saw him pitch and fall [01:28.02]If she'd been the pal that she should have [01:31.82]He might have been rasing a son [01:35.94]Instead of out there on the prairie [01:39.64]To die by a Ranger's gun [01:44.21]Death's sharp sting did not trouble [01:47.48]His chances for life were too slim [01:51.80]Where they were putting his body [01:55.73]Was all that worried him [01:59.70]He lifted his head on his elbow [02:03.60]The blood from his wound flowed red [02:07.56]He gazed at his friends gathered round him [02:11.54]He looked up at them and he said [02:15.79]Bury me out on the prairie [02:19.14]Where the coyotes can howl o'er my grave [02:23.74]Bury me out on the prairie [02:27.25]But from them my bones please save [02:31.66]Wrap me up in a blanket [02:35.27]Bury me deep in the ground [02:39.52]Cover me over with boulders [02:43.04]Of granite big and brown [02:47.08]We buried him out on the prairie [02:50.72]Where the coyotes can howl o'er his grave [02:54.96]His soul is now a-resting [02:58.90]Fron the unkind cut she gave [03:02.86]And many another young puncher [03:06.55]As he rides past the pile of stones [03:10.84]Recalls some similar woman [03:14.68]And thinks of his moulderin' bones